


Don't Make It Bad

by CharlieTheUnicorn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-15 21:05:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18507067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharlieTheUnicorn/pseuds/CharlieTheUnicorn
Summary: Dean wants to sleep and Crowley has nothing better to do.





	Don't Make It Bad

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work in progress. There will be multiple chapters. I’ll add tags as it goes along.

Sometimes Dean mind was too loud. Even when he slept. His thoughts would creep into his dreams. The screaming. The blood. He should be used to it. He seen and heard plenty. But sometimes, when it was quiet, they would creep into his mind and leave him a shaking crying mess. It was probably all his pent up feelings that he never dealt with. These days, Dean was not in the business of feeling. He never was if he was honest. It was easier to get lost in someone else’s body then deal with all the pain he ever felt. If he was honest, meaningless sex wasn’t helping anymore either. 

Sometimes when Dean would bring someone back to a motel, they would see his scars. They would see the bullet wounds and stab wounds. They saw the hand that marked his bicep. Dean has never thought his body was anything less than a gift, but he was tired of answering the questions. 

“What’s this from?”  
“What are you? A mob boss?”  
“Dude, what is on your arm?”

He could and has talked his way around this situation. Can’t really ask questions when you’re screaming for him. But it was annoying. His life wasn’t for everyone. 

And that was exactly what was keeping Dean up today. He laid in his room. The bunker felt especially empty and Dean could feel the weight of everything he lost. He wished someone was laying next to him. Someone warm who could hold him. Dean didn’t want to feel anymore. Or maybe he did. Maybe he wanted to tell someone how he felt like human garbage. How he was tired of the weight of the world weighing on his shoulder. 

And then he was there. As if he heard Dean’s wishes, Crowley appeared in deans bed. 

“What the hell?” Dean jumped up.

Crowley was laying on his back, completely at ease, as if this was a normal Wednesday night. Ya know, on Wednesday we come to cuddle Dean. 

“Oh, relax. I was bored. You’re lonely. I thought I’d say hi.” Crowley smiled at Dean. 

Every part of Dean’s body was screaming no. To tell the demon to fuck off so he could drink himself into a semi Peaceful sleep. Despite all of the common sense Dean had, which was plenty, he just laid back down. 

On the queen sized bed, they weren’t touching. Just laying side by side. For the first time in weeks, Deans head wasn’t buzzing. It was quiet. Dean could almost drift off to sleep. He almost did, until Crowley reached down and took his hand. 

Deans first thought was how warm his hand was. And soft. Their finger intertwined and he couldn’t find a reason to pull his hand away. 

“Goodnight,” Crowley whispered. It was too soft for Crowley. Too intimate. But it was too late. They were holding hands and it was dark. Dean was warm and tired and needed to sleep. So holding hands with a demon, Dean drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, Dean woke up to find himself completely alone. He was now under the covers and tucked in, but alone. His heart beat uncomfortably in his chest as he realized he was sad. He wanted Crowley to be here. Despite the fact that Crowley was a demon and by nature awful, Dean did like his company. Even when he pretended otherwise. 

Dean turned on his back and as he stretched and his hand ran into a slip of paper. 

Had to slip away. Same thing tonight?  
Crowley

Dean had to smile at this. Crowley could have shot him a text but left him a note. 

So, they did the same thing every night. Dean would fight monsters and come home, shower. Lay in bed, Crowley would show up. Sometimes they talked about Dean’s day. How he felt about killing. How there was people he couldn’t save. Crowley would tell Dean how smooth Hell was running. How it was still awful but not as bad as it was when Dean was there. 

It wasn’t until two weeks later when something changed. Dean was drifting off to sleep when arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him closer until he and Crowley were face to face. 

“Hey,” Dean said softly. 

“Hi,” Crowley smiled. 

They looked at each other for a few moments before Crowley leaned down to kiss Dean. 

Dean leaned into this. Hard. He took over. Pushing Crowley on his back and straddling his hips. Crowley didn’t like this very much. He flipped them over so Crowley was on top of Dean. Crowley bit Dean’s lip just a little bit to let Dean know who was in charge. 

Crowley started to grind on Deans lower half as he trailed kisses down his cheek and to his neck. 

Dean was at half mast when suddenly Crowley stopped. 

“Not yet.” He climbed off Dean and laid next to him. 

“What the fuck man?” Dean said exasperated. He was embarrassingly hard and his face was flushed. 

Crowley chose not to speak. Instead he pulled Dean to him. Deans back was to Crowley’s chest. Dean could tell they were both uncomfortable tonight. 

Dean normally slept in Jeans but tonight he wiggles out of them. He decided boxers were enough and went back to Crowley’s arm. 

“Can we talk about that?” Dean asked.

“I’m going to top you.” Crowley said without hesitation. “You’ve never been topped before. I want it to be better than this. A random night in your bed. I want it to better.”

He sounded sincere. Dean decided not to pry. He decided that he wanted it to be better too. He didn’t exactly know what better was but he was excited to find out.


End file.
